Deadra and the diner

Rock was in a neighborhood park somewhere in Little Rock when he met an overweight young African-American woman named Deadra. She commented immediately on the cats who had gathered nearby, and Rock was happy to say that one of them was his. "She's gray on top and white on the bottom, the little one there in the back," he said. "Her name's Jo."
"Look, there's a racoon with them," Deadra said.
She said she wanted to see the cats run around instead of just sitting in one place, but for the next few minutes Rock noticed they only moved when Deadra wasn't looking.
There was a classic diner across the street, tucked right in with the neighborhood's baby-boomer 1950s brick houses, the sort Rock's young professional acquaintances tended to buy. It looked as if someone had dipped the diner in pink stucco many years earlier, back when they were common and popular. Rock couldn't wait to go inside.
Deadra agreed to split a peanut butter sandwich with him. He also ordered two diet Cokes. As they waited, Rock's mind wandered off into a scenario in which he was given the opportunity to lie on sheets that had a thread-count of one-hundred thousand. Afterward he joked that he had sex on them with the AT&T girl: "I came inside her and failed to notice."